


i'll be seeing you

by maeruth



Series: extracurricular [1]
Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Amnesia, Bathroom Sex, Blow Jobs, Ghosts, M/M, Multi, Teacher Galo au, low key tho
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:29:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23919754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maeruth/pseuds/maeruth
Summary: High school had to end sometime.Lio finds moving on from Mr. Thymos was easier than expected. College life was easy. Being independent was easy. It was as if he never attended Prompepolis High, and he really was the normal, level-headed Honors student everyone thought him to be.He just didn't expect his dead best friend to show back up.[sequel to the "afterschool" series]
Relationships: Lio Fotia/Galo Thymos, Lio Fotia/Meis
Series: extracurricular [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1760695
Comments: 8
Kudos: 62





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LESGHETIIIIIIIIITTTTTT

Let’s get one thing cleared up. 

Lio Fotia wasn’t crazy. 

He knew it, and everyone around him knew it, too. They  _ loved _ him. Being in college was as easy as breathing; Lio was just  _ good _ at being the soft-spoken Honors student. 

Of course, claiming his reputation wasn’t without its hurdles. The death of his best friend still lingered in the back of his mind - and in his nightmares - as well as his former relationship with Mr. Thymos. His parents knew of the former, but they will never,  _ ever  _ know about the latter. Not until Lio had straightened things out with him and was bringing him over for dinner on Sundays. 

Mr. Thymos’ sentence was still far from ending, anyways. Might as well establish a career to sweep him off his feet later.

Picking a college was the next step after his graduation. When his parents asked for his final decision, they were surprised to find that he chose a college just a few miles from Promepolis, skirting the city but not quite so involved with citylife. He argued it would be odd to pick up and travel halfway across the country, especially given the trauma he suffered in high school. 

(The trauma he brought upon himself, but that was neither here nor there.)

Given that the university was still rather prestigious and difficult to get into, his parents gave their approval, and he was packed and dropped off over a handful of days. 

Campus life was different. Being independent was different. Meis and Gueira were always the independent ones, off doing their own thing against the world, and Lio remembered  _ envying  _ that. What he would give to take his father’s Prius for a spin, to dress up and grab a drink just because he wanted to, pick up a certain gym teacher for a date -

But that was in the past. Lio reminded himself to either keep his head in the present or look to the future. 

Orientation was simple enough, and he found that people were drawn to him for some reason or another. He didn’t mind, but he wasn’t quite ready to start making new best friends yet. 

A pretty girl with warm eyes stopped him just as orientation ended. Lio noted she was fidgeting with a loose wire from her spiral notebook as she asked, “Hey, so - are you busy after this? Some of us were gonna stop by this one pizza place to chill for a while, if you wanna come with.”

Lio checked his watch, before remembering curfew was a thing of the past. An easy smile stretched across his face, practiced and second-nature to him. “Sure. Sounds like fun.” 

This crowd was different from Meis and Gueira. They talked differently, behaved differently, and somehow already knew each other. The pretty girl who invited him didn’t talk much, laughing into her soda and hiding her smile behind manicured fingers. Lio learned her name was Alva, though she disliked it. 

She wasn’t Meis. She wasn’t Gueira. But she was the first friend Lio made since middle school. 

Alva, like the rest of their developing friend group, treated Lio like he was an old friend right off the bat - invited him out on weekends, helped him pick out furniture for his new apartment, struggled through the same class registration. It helped that all of their parents were rich, just like his; they never really needed to worry about surviving on their own. 

Lio’s first semester was going refreshingly nice. It was as if he never attended Prompepolis High, and he really was the normal, level-headed Honors student. 

Then Meis started showing up.

At least, Lio figured it was Meis. He had never been exactly “haunted” before— if what he was experiencing could be considered a haunting— because he didn’t believe in ghosts or the supernatural. He outgrew the childish fear long ago and way before Gueira did, but he nearly dropped his favorite mug when he saw a tall, lanky figure standing in his kitchen doorway. It was there for the briefest of moments, flickering like TV static before it disappeared. 

Lio stepped towards the doorway, and the air was suddenly ice cold. 

Still, he told himself he was just seeing things. It was just due to a lack of sleep, or finals were just stressing him out enough for him to imagine his former best friend in his kitchen doorway. 

That apparition didn’t show itself again, but something else replaced it. 

Lio was getting groceries for the week, reaching for a bag of hot cheetos when he heard it. 

_ Get the lime ones, dude. Regular ones suck.  _

Lio whipped his head around, scanning the few people in the aisle. That was  _ Meis’ _ voice, clear as day. Right in his ear. Demanding his favorite goddamn flavor of  _ chips _ , of all things. 

“What the fuck,” Lio muttered to himself, rubbing at one of his temples. Regardless, he tossed the bag of lime hot cheetos into his cart before wheeling it off to the next aisle. 

And the voice returned with a different demand as Lio set a tin of instant coffee into his cart,  _ You still drink that shit? Stunts your growth, you know.  _

Again, Lio looked around, but saw nothing - no long hair, no dark circled eyes, no  _ Meis.  _ So why—?

_ Give it up. I’m not there.  _ He huffed a laugh, and Lio could almost  _ see  _ him shrug,  _ Er, “here”.  _

“Then where the  _ fuck _ are you?” Lio asked, voice low so the woman next to him wouldn’t hear. His head began to hurt. 

He received no answer, and the voice didn’t come back for the remainder of his trip. It wasn’t until he was home that he not only heard it again, but  _ felt  _ it. 

It was just the faintest brush of his hair, something ice cold pressing against his temple as a lock of hair was tucked behind his ear. He dropped the box of mac n’ cheese he had been reading over with a gasp, pushing whatever it was that touched him away. 

Nothing was there. 

_ Jeez, would you relax?  _ Meis snickered in a way that made Lio’s eyebrows knit together in irritation,  _ I didn’t think you’d freak out like that. You should get a haircut, by the way. Unless you’re growing it out?  _

“I—” Lio gripped the counter behind him tight before sighing, “For Christ’s sake, I’m just tired.”

_ But you hide it pretty damn well.  _

Lio turned back to the counter, unloading his groceries with trembling hands. He was fine. He just missed Meis. So much that he was hallucinating his voice in his head. Maybe Gueria was going through the same thing - they knew each other longer, after all. They were closer. 

_ Sure, but he didn’t push me down the stairs.  _

Lio froze for a moment before shaking his head. What was that thing he had read up on - survivor’s guilt? This was just that. Completely normal. Losing Meis was traumatic, so this was just his way of coping. 

_ Oh my  _ god,  _ dude,  _ Meis’ voice laughed again, bright and clear as fucking day as if he weren’t six feet under back home,  _ “Survivor’s guilt”? You’re starting to believe your own bullshit. Ohh, man, if only Gueria could see you now.  _

“Get out of my head.” The blonde muttered, almost slamming a carton of milk down onto the counter. “You aren’t  _ real.” _

Something cold suddenly wrapped around his middle, circling him like a pair of arms. That cool voice was right up against his ear,  _ Feel real  _ now? 

Lio jolted away with a start, looking around and once again seeing absolutely  _ nothing _ . Those arms felt so real and that voice, deep and achingly familiar was so close he could almost feel his breath against his skin. 

Tears beaded at his eyes, voice wavering. “What are— What the hell are you? What’s going on, how can I  _ hear  _ you? You’re-You’re  _ dead _ —“

_ Yuuup, and who’s fault is that?  _ Meis’ voice drawled, almost disinterested.  _ And you can call this what you want— karma, payback, what have you.  _

“So you’re, what—  _ haunting _ me now?”

_ Sure, if that’s what you wanna call it.  _

“I’m going fucking crazy.” Lio almost sobbed, a choked laugh leaving his throat. He held his head in his hands as he slid to the ground, knees pulled into his chest tight. 

Meis laughed again, a sound Lio was beginning to grow tired of despite missing it for months.  _ No, you’ve  _ been _ fucking crazy since high school. Need I remind you who it was that pushed me down the stairs? Snapped my neck like a goddamn toothpick? And let’s not forget what you did to your  _ sweetheart _ , Mr. Thymos… _

Lio hadn’t realized he was crying until the tears hit his legs. “Leave me  _ alone.”  _

_ No.  _

The air around him dropped in temperature. The voice grew closer again, as if Meis was towering over him. 

_ I’m not going anywhere, Lio. You’re stuck with me.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always thank u to everyone who supported the first few parts of this series ( ˙▿˙ ) im still v surprised at the direction this series took, i rly wasn't planning for plot when I wrote the first fic for teacher au lmao so all the comments and kudos mean a lot to me!!  
> u can find me on twitter @zeachpin


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> changed the title of this fic bc the last title wasn't vibing w me too much

Lio took to carrying around earbuds with him whenever he left the house. Turns out talking to yourself only earns you odd looks from people just trying to go about their day. 

Having your dead best friend occupy a space in your head wasn’t as bad as he thought it was. If he was being haunted, so be it; it was nice to have someone familiar to talk to. He would never admit it to Meis, lest he wanted another lecture on “why you shouldn’t push the people you love down staircases”. It had become somewhat of a joke between them, which was morbidly odd on so many levels, but at least Lio didn’t feel too guilty over it anymore. If Meis was joking about it, then he figured it was behind them. 

_ Can’t we go out for once?  _ Meis asked one morning on the shuttle to campus. Usually, Lio enjoyed the walk, but summer was around the corner and he’d prefer not showing up to class with sweat stains on his favorite sweatshirt. _ You’ve been studying non-stop.  _

Lio hugged his backpack to his chest, squished between two lanky students with no sense of personal space. “No, because I’m meeting with Alva to go over our project for sociology after classes today.”

_ Oh, Miss Perfect, right. She kinda reminds me of you, honestly. _

“How’s that?”

_ Honor student, family’s probably loaded, pretty, blonde… she’s probably just as crazy underneath all that perfume and make up. _

“Well, unlike me, she actually understands sociology,” Lio scoffed, pulling the brim of his baseball cap down. “Let me know when we get to campus. I only got around 5 hours of sleep last night.”

_ And who’s fault was that?  _

The blonde rolled his eyes before settling into a semi-comfortable position, dozing off quickly.  
  


* * *

  
Lio had a locked room in his apartment. 

It wasn’t always locked. The apartment was a two bedroom, two full bath deal a few blocks from campus, sitting near a charming pizza parlor and two story library. 

“Are you going to rent out the other room?” His mother asked once the movers had dropped off all of his things. Boxes labeled “clothes”, “shoes” and “misc” were stacked around the living room space. “A roommate would be nice.” 

He  _ had  _ considered getting a roommate. They could split the rent - which wasn’t an issue given who his parents were— and maybe even become friends. Plan grocery trips together. Pull all-nighters for different classes.  _ Normal  _ college stuff.

Lio hummed in thought, opening the door to the second bedroom. It was spacious: sleek wooden floors, soft eggshell walls, all with a connecting bathroom. There were no windows on any of the walls, leaving the ceiling fan as the only source of light. 

A roommate would do well here, he figured. 

And yet. 

“I think I’ll use it as an office space.” He finally said. “I can keep my desk and schoolwork in here. Having a roommate would be a bit distracting.”

That was exactly what his mother wanted to hear, so he was left with an extra room to do whatever he pleased. 

It wasn’t a  _ complete _ lie, either. Lio did have a desk put in, along with a laptop and a printer. He even bought office supplies - a corkboard, pushpins, highlighters, sharpie markers, even photo paper. 

As well as a map of the city, and through tricky sources, a map of the Promepolis Detention Center. 

The room was locked for obvious purposes. He couldn’t have guests asking about the prison map, or the several photos tacked onto the corkboard. They were innocent enough, just a handful of photos taken during gym and lunch period, but the ones Lio had saved onto his laptop were riskier, taken after school. The ones he promised Mr. Thymos to never show anyone. 

Lio used the room to keep tabs on Mr. Thymos. His sentence was still long from over, but that didn’t mean Lio couldn’t keep track of how many years he had left. Mr. Thymos would still be locked up even after he graduated college, so Lio knew he had to be the one to welcome him after prison. Maybe then, he would see how much Lio  _ really _ loved him, maybe then they could actually—

_ God, if only you could  _ hear  _ yourself.  _

Lio pinned another photo to the corkboard a little  _ too _ roughly. Meis didn’t understand, of course. 

“You know, you don’t  _ have  _ to be here,” Lio muttered, stepping back to admire the collage of photos pinned to the board. “You didn’t like our relationship, anyways.”

_ “Relationship.” Sure.  _ Meis sighed melodramatically,  _ Your tragic love story akin to Romeo and Juliet. How could I  _ not  _ be on board with that.  _

“Smartass.”

_ Dumbass.  _

Lio wished he could smack him. He was beginning to grow tired of never being able to touch Meis, but Meis being able to touch him. 

_ Nah, let’s keep it that way. I remember you hit hard.  _ Meis said. Lio could feel a gust of cold air hanging over his shoulder, as if peering up at the wall with him.  _ Why do you even do this? _

“I don’t want to forget him. What he looks like, how he talks, his mannerisms…” He smiled, sighing softly. “Anything about him.” 

_ You think he’s doing the same thing? _

“He doesn’t have anything of mine.” He said, before he remembered the single letter he sent Galo, written on the day of his graduation. He remembered the front of it, how he poured his heart out in an apology, telling him he’d wait as many years as it took to see him again. Then something on the back, scrawled over and over—

Lio shook his head. He was imagining things again. 

He shut the door to the room behind him, double locking it before heading towards the kitchen. Music drifted in from the living room, an old record from an antique store a few blocks down. 

Lio could almost see the way Meis scrunched his nose up at the music.  _ You never liked old music.  _ Or  _ antique stores. _

“This is one of Galo’s favorite songs,” Lio said simply, staring at the contents of his fridge - or lack thereof - for a little  _ too  _ long. He shook his head after a while and shut the door, “And we need groceries.” 

You  _ need groceries. I don’t exactly need to eat.  _

Lio blinked. “Did I really say ‘we’? I didn’t even… Sorry.” 

He reached for his car keys. He had become so accustomed to having Meis around, almost as if he was his roommate. Which wasn’t  _ too  _ far off from the plan they had in high school, after all. Maybe if he tried hard enough, he could imagine Gueira’s voice in his head next. 

Meis didn’t say anything for a while, speaking up only once Lio had shut off the vinyl player and locked the door to his apartment.  _ It would have been cool. To be roommates, I mean. With Gueira.  _

Lio slipped his earbuds in, allowing himself a smile. “Yeah, it would have. You two practically lived at my place, anyways. It wouldn’t have been that different.” 

_ Yeah, it would have. We would be arguing over chores and rent, then we’d probably have one big fight at least every month.  _

“Which we would get over within a few days. We weren’t good at staying mad at each other.”

_ Fuckin’ Gueira. Always pulling the stupid puppy eyes.  _

Lio laughed softly, pressing the button to the garage floor on the elevator. “I wonder how he’s doing…” 

Meis’ voice deflated a bit.  _ You don’t talk to him anymore?  _

“It’s not that, we still text from time to time, but it just isn’t…” He tried to find the right word, “The same. You know, since what happened.” 

Meis hummed, but said nothing. A burst of warm, summer air hit Lio as he stepped out of the elevator, gravel crunching underneath his shoes. It reminded him of summers spent in his backyard by the pool, laughing whenever Gueira yanked Meis into the pool from behind. It almost always resulted in someone nearly drowning. 

Lio idly wondered if he could come up with a good enough excuse to not go home for the summer. He could honestly visit any time he wanted to, seeing as his university wasn’t that far away, but clearly, the urge hadn’t crossed his mind. Besides, his parents hadn’t asked him to come home— yet. 

His phone buzzed in his pocket as he slid into the driver’s seat. 

_ Who is it?  _ Meis asked, only half-interested.

“Alva,” Lio said, just as Meis muttered an  _ of course.  _ “Wants to know if I wanna go with her and our friends to a club.”

_ Like, for dancing? You can’t dance for shit.  _

“Gee, thanks.” The blonde murmured, typing a quick reply. “I’m going. I’ve never been to one.”

_ Stay away from the dancefloor and you’ll be fine.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as usual, im @ zeachpin on twitter. i've also posted a link to my ko-fi!


	3. Chapter 3

Alva was scrolling through her phone when she glanced up and spotted Lio. “Ah, Lio! Over here!”

She was standing at the front of the line extending outside, wrapping around the building. The building was relatively small, sitting at about three stories high made up of sleek, black tile. Music pounded through the walls, muffled pop streaming into the night air whenever the front door opened. 

Lio looked up towards the club’s name. 

_ “Burnish”, huh?  _ Meis muttered, seemingly disinterested.  _ Looks exclusive as shit. _

Alva met him halfway, stepping away from their friend group to greet Lio. She looked practically flawless, as usual— legs that went on for days, blonde hair curled and teased, cheeks rosy and freckled. She smiled when she saw Lio’s leather jacket, flashing pearly whites. “Guess we had the same outfit idea.” 

Glancing at the rest of the crowd, Lio breathed a sigh of relief. At least he  _ looked  _ the part. Being on his own meant being able to wear whatever he wanted, which meant black, leather, more black, and  _ more  _ leather _.  _ Black jeans, black boots, short sleeved turtle neck, crisp leather jacket on top of it all. He hadn’t had the chance to get his ears pierced yet, but he had already begun researching places that weren’t  _ Claire’s. _

“C’mon, everyone’s already here. We should be getting in soon.” Alva tugged him towards the line, melding into their group quickly. “There’s no cover for entry tonight, so you don’t have to worry so much.”

_ Will they even serve y'all alcohol?  _ Meis wondered, a voice in the back of Lio’s head as he joined the conversation.  _ Well, not like you drink, anyways. Just watch your cup. _

He didn’t get a chance to even thank Meis for the advice because he was suddenly being ushered past the bouncer and into a short, dim hallway. Lio’s heart was hammering, but it wasn’t a bad type of anxiety. It was his first time at a club— first time in an  _ adult  _ environment, even, he should be  _ excited _ . 

Excited to do  _ what _ , exactly, he wasn’t sure of yet. But he was just excited to even be there. 

Lio saw the neon lights, first. Flashing between purple and teal, highlighting and bouncing off of his hair and clothes. They filtered onto a balcony, overlooking the dance floor below. People were pressed together, cheek to cheek and swaying to the DJ’s beat.

Lio felt electrified. 

Two swirling staircases led to the bottom floor. He followed close behind Alva, tucking hair behind his ear as he switched his focus on the stairs and the bouncing crowd. There were two bars on either side of the dancefloor, with two more on the second floor balcony they just descended from, each swarmed with people. 

“This your first time at someplace like this?” One of his friends asked, yelling over the music. Lio nodded, earning him a ruffle of his hair. “Don’t go overboard!”

More good advice that Lio wasn’t going to pay attention to. Alva was pulling him through clusters of people towards the bar, saying something about no alcohol but the other drinks are pretty good, anyways, what did he want to get started?, as if he knew the first thing about this place. He went with her recommendation, too distracted by the lights and the people and the music. 

She handed him something bright green that went down easy, sweet and sour mixing on his tongue, lacking the bitter taste of alcohol. 

“What do you think?” Alva asked as she slid onto one of the barstools. 

“Tastes like…” Lio quirked an eyebrow. “Melted green apple jolly ranchers.” 

“Sounds about right.” 

“Is this what you usually get?” 

“Yup. Easy to drink, and you look cool drinking it.” She set her glass down, and Lio noticed her nails were painted neon purple and teal to match the club’s lighting. “Did you wanna dance?”

He glanced back towards the dance floor, bursting with people. “Not my thing. My, ah— best friend used to tell me I can’t dance, anyways, so.”

“At least they’re honest. It took me three years of being on the dance team to realize I was the worst girl on the team.” She said, laughing. “Did you do any sports or clubs in high school?”

_ Absolutely, you did toooons of extracurricular activities with Mr. Thymos,  _ Meis interjected, a cheeky smile in his voice.  _ Hard to pick a favorite one, huh? _

Lio shook his head, ignoring Meis. “Also not my thing. My parents didn’t want anything to distract me.”

Alva hummed, looking down at her drink. Her fingers tapped against the glass, “So I take it you didn’t have time to date, either?”

_ Someone’s got a crush,  _ Meis muttered. 

“Actually, I did have a… girlfriend, for a few months,” Lio answered, setting down his own drink, which was suddenly too sweet. “Things didn’t end well.”

_ What an understatement!  _

Lio willed Meis to shut up for two seconds, only barely listening to Alva’s reponse. He blinked when he saw her looking up at him expectantly, “I’m sorry— what was that?”

“I was just, um— wondering what your type was.” 

_ Oh, easy: tall, muscular, glasses, has to be a gym teacher and a little stupid… She doesn’t stand a chance.  _

He needed to step away. The air on the dancefloor was too stuffy, Alva’s questions too suffocating. She opened her mouth to say something, but Lio forced a smile, excusing himself for a moment. Whatever she wanted to ask or tell him— he didn’t want to hear right now. 

Lio weaved his way through the crowd towards one of the staircases, eyebrows knit together in irritation. He practically stomped up the stairs, dodging people coming down. 

_ Not in the partying mood anymore?  _ Meis asked, but Lio didn’t answer, just made his way towards one of the bars on the left side, near the exit. He asked for water, suddenly not in the mood to try any new drinks.

He leaned against the bar’s counter, color dancing in his eyes. Lio’s gaze landed on a tall boy with long, dark hair, tossed over one shoulder. The collar of his shirt was popped open, gold rings gleaming on one hand. He was smiling at someone, saying something. Then he looked up and caught Lio’s stare, dark eyes piercing through the blacklights.

Meis’ voice was low, almost hesitant.  _ Looks kinda like me, huh?  _

“Fuck off,” Lio muttered under his breath. He didn’t move from his spot against the bar’s counter, letting his eyes do all the talking from across the club. 

_ If I knew you’d be into that, I’d have asked you years ago,  _ Meis’ voice continued, closer this time. He could almost  _ feel  _ his breath against the sensitive skin behind his ear, and he couldn’t suppress the shiver that ran down his spine. It felt a bit too close, too hot, too real. _ Think we would have made a hot couple? _

Lio slammed his drink down with nearly enough force to shatter it. He made a beeline for the bathrooms and away from the crowds, squeezing past over-enthusiastic couples before pushing the door to the men’s room open. 

He locked himself into the middle stall, trying to even his breathing. 

“What part of ‘fuck off’ did you not understand?” He asked no one, back against the door to the stall. He was alone, which meant he could be as pissy as he wanted to.

Meis’ voice came back, but nothing touched him— yet.  _ Not my fault you can’t get me off your mind. You’re even going for guys who look like me. _

Lio shook his head, sighing. “It was  _ one _ coincidence. You know who I’m… waiting for.” 

_ Right, right,  _ the voice drawled, a featherlight touch teasing against his hips, lifting the hem of his shirt,  _ still hot for teacher. It’s been a few years, though. You sure he hasn’t moved on? _

“No, he wouldn’t, he…”  _ loves me _ , Lio wanted to say. He believed that. 

_ Stop lying to yourself, Lio,  _ he said, a sweet tune to his voice. Cold fingers travelled higher and higher, fingertips grazing against the skin of his neck. They squeezed around his throat, constricting it in the most delicious way. 

Lio tipped his head back against the door, gasping as his hands balled into fists at his side. A leg slid between his, parting them to rub against his hips. Meis hadn’t touched him like this before—  _ no one  _ had touched him like this besides Galo. 

“I’m not— lying.” Lio tried, eyes fluttering shut against the kisses being pressed against his jaw. Kisses that felt too intimate, too genuine. “And you’re not even  _ real.” _

_ 'M real enough. Real enough for you, anyways. _

Lio squeezed his eyes shut, afraid of what he’d see if he opened them. Meis’ voice didn’t sound like just a voice in his head. These touches, the hand around his throat and the leg against his hips was too  _ real _ to be in his head. His touch was ice cold but it was  _ there,  _ and that long, silky hair wasn’t just part of his imagination, it was suddenly brushing against his cheek. 

And when he opened his eyes, Meis’ eyes were staring up at him, half lidded and  _ alive. _

Meis was right there in front of him. 

“I missed you, Lio,” he said, sliding his hand from Lio’s throat to brush against his belt, “didn’t you miss me?

Lio’s bottom lip trembled, hot tears welling in his wide eyes. 

Meis was here. Meis was  _ here. _

He cupped his face and crashed their lips together, tangling his hands in his hair. Every ounce of him was cold but he didn’t  _ care,  _ Lio was just relieved to have him back if only for a moment. He hadn’t realized how much he actually missed Meis, missed his quiet, snarky attitude and long eyelashes and soft hands that were currently doing  _ that  _ to—  _ oh.  _

He was pushed up further against the door, his pants undone and legs parted. Meis palmed him through his briefs, pulling his lips from Lio’s to suck a bruise onto the side of his neck. 

“God, I— Meis,” Lio nearly sobbed, bucking his hips against his hand. “I missed you, I missed you, I—  _ fuck,  _ keep going.”

Cold spread over his skin, splayed out across his chest as a hand pinched at a nipple. Meis dipped lower, kissing along his collarbone, “You’re real pent up, aren’t you?” He tugged the waistband to Lio’s underwear down, smearing precum across the head. “Want me to make it better?”

Lio nodded, biting his lip as the cold on his chest left for a moment and Meis dropped to his knees. Looking down was a mistake— Meis was looking up at him through his eyelashes, mouthing and licking from the base of his cock towards the tip, never breaking eye contact. A shiver ran down Lio’s spine at the intimacy of it all, moaning softly when Meis wrapped his lips around him to suck. 

Raven hair spilled down his back and fell over one of his eyes, and Lio couldn’t help but reach out and card his fingers through it. It felt the same, slipped through his fingers like silk. Meis leaned into the touch, eyes fluttering shut as he swallowed more of Lio down.

“When did— When did you even learn how to  _ do _ this?” Lio groaned, hand fisting into his hair. 

Meis pulled off Lio with a  _ pop _ , lapping his tongue against the underside of his dick. “You and Gueria weren’t the only people I hung out with, you know. I’ve got  _ plenty _ of practice.”

He was down to the hilt before Lio could ask  _ who  _ gave him all that practice, bobbing his head along his length. Lio arched his back, throwing his head back against the stall door with a moan. Music still pounded through the walls, rattling Lio’s bones while his head hit cloud nine. He bucked into Meis’ mouth once, twice, before muttering an apology. 

“S’okay,” Meis said, lacing one of his hands with Lio’s. “You can do whatever you want to me.” 

A sound between a sob and a whine left Lio’s throat, squeezing Meis’ hand. He was taking him in deeper and deeper, nose brushing against the curled hair at the base of cock. It was too good and it wasn’t going to last, not with the way Meis was looking at him through his lashes and swallowing him down so fucking _well._

“I can’t, I—” Lio’s knees buckled, tears beaded at the corners of his eyes, “Meis— “

“You can, you  _ can,”  _ He said, pulling off of Lio to stroke him with slender fingers, “Let go, Lio.” 

Lio slapped a hand over his mouth, a cry leaking through his fingers as he shuddered. He thanked his lucky stars that no one had entered the bathroom during  _ any  _ of that. 

Before his knees could give out, he slid down to the floor, mind fuzzy and chest fuzzier. 

Meis was wiping at his cheek with toilet paper. “Couldn’t have aimed a bit better, huh?” 

“Sorry.” Lio sighed, fixing his jeans and belt slowly. He was almost waiting to wake up from this dream, where Meis wasn’t sitting across from him and griping about odd smelling stains. 

He reached out to grab one of Meis’ wrists, hesitating before pressing his lips against his. Cold, chapped, kissing him back— too good to be true. Maybe all in his head, maybe a ghost, definitely brushing his tongue against his. He kissed just like Lio always imagined him to kiss: hard, deep, simmering with a quiet heat. 

Lio pulled back, licking his lips. “Let’s get home.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this entire sequel plot came from the fuckin ghost blowjob scene


End file.
